


Sometimes I Worry

by jedinow



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4159446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedinow/pseuds/jedinow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sometimes I worry that you guys [in Fall Out Boy] don't like me enough as it is, 'cause of, like, all the things that we've done.” Dan's words from his phone call with Pete Wentz echoed through his mind as he paced back and forth across his bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes I Worry

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to phansmovingcastle (on tumblr) for the beta and saving this story from my overdramatic h/c tendencies. :)

inspired by [Dan & Phil Confession Roulette](https://youtu.be/V4OL-irwf38?t=3m8s) and [Pete Wentz Call or Delete](http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p02t9tpn)

 

“ _Sometimes I worry that you guys don't like me enough as it is, 'cause of, like, all the things that we've done.”_ Dan's words from his phone call with Pete Wentz echoed through his mind as he paced back and forth across his bedroom.

_Okay, let's be rational about this. Surely Pete knows that a photo can't be erased from the whole internet. He was probably just pranking me. And if Patrick was so upset, why wasn't he the one to call me? Yes, the logical conclusion is that Pete was just joking. Well, hopefully it was mostly a joke._

_But what if it wasn't a joke? Or at least not all of it? What if they really are upset? I've asked them to do so many silly things. There are definitely some pictures out there that they can't be happy to see. I know there are things I regret, like posing for a really serious photo that just looks cheesy._

_Oh god! Maybe the guys really do hate me. Every time we meet I'm making them into fools. They don't have a choice and they don't want to look rude so they just smile and play along during our interviews. And now one of my favourite bands probably hates me._

_I wish I could go back and stop that moment. Or find a way to make it not embarrassing. Why do I constantly fuck up? I just want to do a good job as interviewer or host or whatever, so I do things that could easily embarrass some guests._

_This is just another 'reason why Dan's a fail.' Fuck my life. I make my living by looking stupid and making others look stupid. People probably only watch my videos so they can laugh at my failure as a human being. Pete was right to be upset with me. I only make things worse._

_And it's not as though it even matters in the grand scheme of things. I could become famous and have ten million youtube followers but I'll still die and the world will forget all about me. It doesn't matter if I do a good job interviewing people because we're all just insignificant and tiny. Look at the size of the universe. It's bigger than anyone can really comprehend. It's been around for millions or billions of years and will continue to exist long after earth turns to a lifeless rock and gets sucked into a black hole. My life is just a speck in the cosmos, just another one..._

“Dan? Are you alright in there?” Phil knocked quietly on the door. “I can hear you pacing. It's 5 AM and you've been walking around for hours and you're starting to worry me.”

Phil heard the pacing stop and waited for Dan to respond. After a long silence he gently knocked again.

“Dan, please talk to me. I just want to make sure you're alright.” Phil frowned as several long seconds ticked by silently. He yawned and his gaze drifted to his feet as he wondered what to do next.

Finally the door cracked open and Phil looked up at his friend. Dan's face was drawn and tired, his cheeks damp with tears. Dan wrapped his arms around himself and sighed deeply.

“I'm fine, Phil,” Dan stated in a low voice without looking at Phil directly.

“Then why were you pacing?” Phil inquired.

“It's nothing. I was just thinking.” Dan replied defensively as he started to become annoyed at Phil's continued questioning.

“What were you thinking about?”

“What do you think?” Dan spat. “Everything! I try to sleep and my mind just won't shut up. It won't shut up about how stupid I looked when we interviewed Fall Out Boy. It won't shut up about how pointless my job is. It won't shut up about how it doesn't fucking matter what I do because life is short and painful and then we all die and there's nobody left to give a fuck.”

Phil was briefly stunned by Dan's angry outburst. This wasn't the first time Dan had expressed these sorts of thoughts, but he was usually less angry and more depressed when he did.

Phil reached out to put a comforting hand on Dan's shoulder but was pushed away. He stepped backwards and managed to trip over his own feet sending him falling. His head hit the wall with a loud crack and his body collapsed in an awkward heap on the floor.

“Fuck! Phil? Phil!” Dan rushed over and knelt beside his friend as panic replaced anger. He could see a dent in the wall from the impact of Phil's head and a smear of blood leading to the crumpled figure on the floor. Dan grabbed Phil's shoulder and assessed him quickly.

“Phil! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you alright?”

Phil was momentarily stunned as stars filled his vision then he let out a long groan of pain.

“Oh my god, Phil. You're such a klutz. But you're okay. Are you okay? Shit, no, of course not. I nearly knocked you out,” Dan rambled in agitation. “What should I do? Maybe I should...”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted, “enough. Just calm down, okay?” He winced and tried to push himself into a sitting position, allowing Dan to help as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he saw Dan staring at him with concern.

“Are you sure you're okay? Your head left a dent in the wall.”

“My head?” Phil ran his hand through his hair but pulled back suddenly when he felt a sharp sting at the back of his head. His hair felt wet and when he looked at his hand he saw his fingers were covered in blood.

“Shit. Your head's bleeding,” Dan observed. “I'll go get a cloth and some ice.”

Phil sat quietly as he waited. He didn't realize his eyes had fallen shut until he heard Dan return.

“Here, you need to put pressure on the cut.” Dan helped Phil position the ice-filled towel to stop the bleeding and wiped the blood from their hands and the wall with a second damp cloth. “I really am sorry, you know. If I hadn't been pacing you wouldn't have gotten worried and come to my door and...”

“Dan, for the last time, stop. This isn't your fault. I know you weren't trying to hurt me. And you need to stop worrying that you're insignificant, because to me you're not.” Phil adjusted his position against the wall and grimaced as the cloth shifted against the cut on his head. “You are anything but insignificant. And even if we are small in the grand scheme of things, you are important to me here and now.”

“I know. I didn't mean to suggest that our friendship doesn't mean anything. I was just upset thinking about the call from Pete and my brain got carried away.”

“Well then could your brain carry you away to get me a glass of water and some paracetamol?”

“Oh right! Yes. And some bandages.”

Phil again waited patiently. His head was really starting to throb but he was mostly just relieved that Dan was finally calming down.

“Here.” Dan returned and handed Phil the water and two white tablets then waited until Phil handed back the glass. “I should check if your head is still bleeding.”

Phil leaned forward and tilted his head down. He felt Dan's fingers brush his hair around and flinched when he felt a cloth dab at the cut.

“It doesn't look too bad and I think it's pretty much stopped bleeding. I don't know. Do you feel like we should go to A&E? They might want to put in a stitch or two.”

“If it's that small I'll be fine. Besides, I really don't feel like sitting in a waiting room for hours just to get one or two stitches. I'm only tired because I haven’t had nearly enough sleep and I'd rather just go back to bed. After all, it's still only 5:30 in the morning.”

“Deal. But I'll check on you later just in case you have a concussion or something, okay?”

Phil nodded and let Dan place a gauze pad on the cut and wrap dressing around his head to hold it in place. Together they stood up and made their way to Phil's bedroom where Phil allowed Dan to tuck him into bed.

“Hey Dan?” Phil asked sleepily.

“Yeah?” Dan paused on his way back to his own room.

“You should get some sleep too. 'Cause I give a fuck about you.”

Dan smiled and yawned, finally able to sleep.

 

 


End file.
